


Seasonal Spies

by dearxalchemist



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Autumn, F/M, Fluff, Post-Canon, Pregnancy, retired spies, sugary sweet fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 11:49:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8012572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dearxalchemist/pseuds/dearxalchemist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The small mechanic ends up conning her tall Russian husband out of a few pounds and she leaves the bakery with a pumpkin filled pastry in one hand and her hot chocolate in another. There’s a slight spring in her step despite her swollen ankles and a soft tune leaves her lips, Illya trailing behind her. He watches her carefully, his hands keep reaching forward to hold onto her if she even looks like she’s going to fall, but if course she doesn’t. </p><p>Gaby simply continues humming, several steps ahead of him as she finishes off her pastry and brushes the crumbs off of her round belly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seasonal Spies

Leaves crunch under her expensive boots. The street is full of the dead leaves, they flutter about in the street and around her boots. The colors are bright yellows and reds, browns and deep fuchsias. Gaby is in love with it all. She’s in love with the smell of cinnamon and coffee, the faint taste of marshmallow on her tongue, all of it. She’s even a little bit in love with the man standing tall behind her with his thick turtleneck pulled up high and a dark green scarf tied along his throat with his lips disappearing behind the fashionable accessory. He doesn’t look as happy as she does in the fall weather. No, she thinks he looks much better in the stark middle of winter. Illya Kuryakin looks much better surrounded by bright snow with his golden hair hidden beneath a wool hat. 

Illya grumbles as she wraps her glove covered fingers around the steaming paper cup and pulls it up to her lips, drawing a soft sip of warm chocolate into her mouth. She hums and waits for the traffic in the street to settle before crossing. Illya walks along side of her, keeping his steps slow and steady so as not to leave her side. They walk across to the bustling sidewalk of the city, most of the stores have their doors open, there are baskets of fresh fruit and autumn colored flowers spread across the storefronts. The smell of fresh pastries assaults her senses and before Illya can protest, she is dragging him inside. 

The small mechanic ends up conning her tall Russian man out of a few pounds and she leaves the bakery with a pumpkin filled pastry in one hand and her hot chocolate in another. There’s a slight spring in her step despite her swollen ankles and a soft tune leaves her lips, Illya trailing behind her. He watches her carefully, his hands keep reaching forward to hold onto her if she even looks like she’s going to fall, but if course she doesn’t. Gaby simply continues humming, several steps ahead of him as she finishes off her pastry and brushes the crumbs off of her round belly.

“She liked that.” Gaby smiles as Illya sidles up next to her, watching her swallow down another bit of hot chocolate.

“Did she?” He asks with a playful tone to his words. She nods against her cup and pulls it away long enough for the tall man to swoop in. Illya presses his lips to hers and for a moment they share a soft blissful chocolate filled kiss before the light changes on the sidewalk and they cross the street and her hand finds his. His fingers link along hers and she swings their arms back and forth playfully. Illya moves with her to the other side of the sidewalk and draws her back up for another kiss.

“We are going to be late.” Gaby chastises softly against his mouth but Illya only smiles and leans up just to kiss the tip of her nose.

“Cowboy will be fine at the pumpkin patch without us.” 

Gaby smirks and reaches up. Her fingers grip on to the edges of his wool hat and she yanks it down over his face playfully. He scoffs and she laughs, “Yes, but I want to pick out a pumpkin before I become a pumpkin.” She adds running her free hand over the swollen belly between them. 

Illya pulls his hat back up and moves his hand over hers. His hand practically dwarfs hers and he smooths his palm along the underside of her belly and smiles at her, “You are no pumpkin…Yet.” 

Gaby swats at him and Illya pulls his hand away giving her a deep laugh. The two of them pick back up on their trail, moving along the sidewalk slowly towards the community pumpkin patch in the outskirts of London. His hand slips along the small of her back and she leans into him as they walk along. The ring on her finger is real and snug under the knitted gloves stretched over her fingers, and Illya takes that hand every chance he gets to press a kiss to the top of her knuckles. 

“Come Chop Shop,” He mutters against her temple as they walk together, happy without the tags of spies hanging over their head any longer.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Birthday @Cassiopieum ! I hope you enjoy these two wonderful fluffy retired spies! Thank you for all your help and ideas over the last year, I'm so happy I have made such a great friend like you in this fandom!


End file.
